


all the words we always wanted but could never make them rhyme

by idontshaveforsher_yesyoudo



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, idk man i wrote this at like two am, idk what else umm, this is kinda shit but yeahh, troye's ex makes an appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 01:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4858307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontshaveforsher_yesyoudo/pseuds/idontshaveforsher_yesyoudo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s long more than a bit tipsy as he lays his head on Connor’s shoulder and lets his glance sweep across the crowd, his friends dancing in the middle of it, when it hits a familiar figure and he tenses up.</p><p>or, when connor spends some time with troye in sidney, some feelings & also troye's ex make an appearance</p>
            </blockquote>





	all the words we always wanted but could never make them rhyme

**Author's Note:**

> i honestly have no idea what this is but yaah  
> english is not my first language i'm sorry for the mistakes  
> title from the intro of battle scars by paradise fears  
> read the russian translation here:  
> https://ficbook.net/readfic/3670697

In a way, Troye understands why people ship him and Connor. He really does spend an awful lot of time with his best friend but anyone at his place would be a fool not to, because being friends with Connor Franta is the best thing ever. So when Connor stays in Perth for his birthday, Troye doesn’t really care about what their subscribers might think, and he ignores the tingly feeling in his stomach when he hears that he’s the person Connor wants to spend the day with.

The evening before the twelfth, they go to a random club with some friends of Troye to celebrate the successful release of WILD. There’s alcohol and pounding music and lots of people around them and Troye sits next to his best friend (who looks _really_ good tonight, he’s not gonna lie) and he couldn’t be happier.

He’s long more than a bit tipsy as he lays his head on Connor’s shoulder and lets his glance sweep across the crowd, his friends dancing in the middle of it, when it hits a familiar figure and he tenses up.

“Everything alright?” Connor’s voice is raw against his ear and he can’t stop shivers from running down his spine.

He turns his head a bit, gaze not leaving the person sitting at the bar.

“That guy over there? That’s Mike.”

Connor’s head turns rapidly and he glares at the man across the room. Telling someone everything about a bad break up will do that.

They both watch the guy order a drink, down it and look around the club, probably trying to find a fitting dance partner, when his eyes get stuck on Troye. He slowly straightens and starts making his way towards them.

Troye whimpers and buries his head in Connor’s shoulder, taking deep breaths, inhaling the scent that has become so familiar to him. It calms him down enough to look up again, just in time to see Mike approach their table. His grip tightens on where his hand is laying on Connor’s leg, but the other man lays an arm around him and pulls him closer, whispering a soft,

“Calm down, you’re okay, deep breaths.”

Troye does as he’s told and tries to stop his heart from racing when he hears the voice he simultaneously loves and dreads.

“Hey Troye!”

He puts a smile on his face and looks up. “Mike! Hi”

Mike’s hair is quiffed up neatly, his shirt clings to his muscles, and he looks still so _perfect_ , his eyebrows slightly raised as he takes in the pair in front of him.

“You look… different.”

The corner of Troye’s mouth pulls up slightly. “You haven’t really changed.”

He knows he looks nothing like his younger self, his hair curly, his features more grown up, and hearing Mike say it in something that could almost be a jealous, regretful voice only confirms that.

“So…” he can see Mike eyeing them suspiciously, but then he continues, “do you wanna get a drink, to catch up a bit?” His tone implies that his intentions aren’t as innocent as ‘catching up’, and his half-smile brings back all the memories Troye tried to erase from his mind.

Connor looks from one to the other, pulls Troye even closer and answers,

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Mike stares at him incredulously.

“And who are you?”

Connor smirks at him and Troye knows that face, it’s the face of brilliant-ridiculous-stupid ideas, and it really should be no surprise but he still tenses up a bit when Connor answers, because he would be lying if he says he hasn’t thought about it before,-

“Oh, I’m just his boyfriend…”

Mike just pulls a sour face.

“In that case… congratulations?”

And in that moment it’s like something turns on Troye’s insides and he nuzzles even closer into Connor’s embrace.

“Thanks. We were about to go dancing, but it was nice seeing you.”

He smiles widely at his ex, who in turn frowns.

“…You too.”

He then turns around abruptly and walks away.

They watch him go until Connor speaks up,

“You okay?”

Troye looks at him and can’t help but grin so wide his cheeks hurt, because that was crazy but it feels like he finally got the closure he needed, and Connor looks ridiculously hot and he really wants to thread his hands through his messed up hair, and the only possible reaction on that realisation is,

“Let’s go dance.”

Before Connor can answer he pulls him up and drags him onto the dance floor.

The rest of the night is spent flailing around, both of them being not really coordinated enough to properly dance, and Troye forgets about Mike and laughs like he hasn’t in a long time, laughs until everything hurts, and _fuck_ , he’s happy.

(And maybe at one point Connor pulls him close to waltz around the room to a random upbeat song and he looks into his eyes and, just for a second, forgets to breathe.)

 

They leave the club around one in the morning, and after saying goodbye to Troyes friends they decide the walk home won’t kill them and start stumbling down the street, arms slung over each other’s shoulder.

They’ve sober up for the most part when they’re walking along the beach and the air tastes of salt and home and stars are so much brighter here than in LA and somehow they end up sitting on the sand and Connor lays his head onto his shoulder and there’s a slight breeze blowing around them and he has a smile playing on his lips when he whispers,

“Happy Birthday, Con.”

The other man looks up at him through his lashes and now the only colour he can see is green and their lips meet and _wow_ , he tastes like mint and the sugary cocktail he drank all evening and something that can only described as _Connor_ and he never wants this to end, and when they slowly pull apart they’re grinning and he has never felt happier than in this moment, hearing the waves crash onto the sand, still with that taste on his lips, and Connor looks breathtakingly gorgeous in the soft light as he smiles and his eyes are lit up and he murmurs,

“Happy Birthday, indeed.”


End file.
